


i'm here

by moldydragonfruit



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Brontophobia, Canon Compliant, Chan is a good leader, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, How do I tag?, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Light Angst, M/M, Minor Lee Felix/Seo Changbin, One Shot, Panic Attacks, Phobias, Thunderstorms, Woojin-centric for the first bit, everyone loves their Woojin hyung, then Chan-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-08-01 09:33:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16282088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moldydragonfruit/pseuds/moldydragonfruit
Summary: While most people fear spiders, heights, or things that go bump in the night, Woojin's fear of the forecast puts him and the rest of Stray Kids in an icky situation.(In which Woojin goes missing, and everyone freaks out.)





	i'm here

**Author's Note:**

> **WARNING:** This fan fiction contains a brief description of a panic attack from an outsider's point of view. I am in no way trying to glorify or romanticize phobias, panic attacks or anything of the like.
> 
>    
> hello and welcome! I wrote this over the span of a week because the idea was stuck in my brain and I just had to get it into words.
> 
> I hope you enjoy! ♡

Kim Woojin awakes to the mellow thrum of rain against his bedroom window. He stretches, then sighs and buries deeper into the comfort of his warm bedsheets. His attempt at drifting back to sleep are fruitless, however, when his stomach groans in hunger. Woojin peels his eyes open slowly and drags himself out of bed.

Much to his surprise, he does not find Felix in the bed opposite his own. With a bleary frown, Woojin peers over the top of both bunks in turn. Minho is nowhere to be found, but Woojin can make out the outline of the maknae, Jeongin, snoozing under his own covers. Woojin smiles at the sight before shuffling out of his room and into the hallway. 

He emerges in the main living quarters. Minho is curled up on a couch in the living room, watching television. Seungmin is across from him, eyes glued to his mobile phone. Minho looks over upon Woojin’s arrival and grins.

“Woojin hyung, hi! You’re awake.”

Seungmin glances up. “Oh, good morning, hyung… Well, afternoon. It’s past twelve already.”

“Hello,” Woojin responds through a yawn. He enters the kitchen, heading for the cereal cabinet in a lethargic haze. He rummages through its contents before nicking a box of cornflakes. “Sleep well?”

“Like a rock.” Minho chuckles and adds, “I wish I could’ve slept in, but I woke up a lot earlier. My body is used to rising at the crack of dawn, unfortunately.”

Woojin pours himself a bowl of cereal and hums as he listens. “That blows.”

“I think the rain woke me up,” Seungmin chips in. Woojin heads over and plants himself down on an empty couch as the boy talks. “It’s one of the first showers of fall. I didn’t think it’d be raining.”

“Did you catch the forecast for today?” Woojin asks around a mouthful of cornflakes, glancing out the nearby window. Bleak, grey clouds line the afternoon skies. The persistent hush of the rain prickles the skin of Woojin’s neck. “Has it been like this all morning?”

Seungmin nods. “And it’s going to be like this for the next two days, apparently. I heard that there’d be storms as well. Sometime this evening.”

Woojin stiffens, his spoon slipping from his fingers and sliding into the bowl. His stomach lurches and he feels himself breaking into a cold sweat, his heartbeat jolting into a rapid tempo. Neither Seungmin nor Minho notice, sliding into pleasant small talk about the unusual weather. 

“Yeah, and I was hoping to look at that new shopping mall. You know, the one just past that bakery that shut down recently?” Minho is saying to Seungmin. He sighs. “Now my plans are ruined.”

“That sucks, hyung.”

Woojin suspects that he should add input. He chuckles weakly and says, “Yeah, what a bummer. On our day off too, huh? The odds aren’t in our favour.”

Minho laughs. “That’s for sure.”

Woojin slips into the kitchen as the pair continue to chat, the ceramic bowl cold and foreign in his hands. With trembling fingers, he makes quick work of pouring the milk into the sink and scraping the leftover dollop of cereal into the trashcan. As he does so, he hears someone walk into the kitchen and open the refrigerator.

“Not hungry?” 

Woojin twists around. Chan is holding a bottle of water and watching Woojin with an incredulous expression, the fridge door slowly drifting shut behind him. Woojin drinks in his boyfriend’s appearance. He’s decked out in a pair of ripped jeans and a black sweater, his hair an unruly mess of soft curls. Chan, Woojin thinks, always looks good.

“I guess not.” Woojin flashes him a pitiful excuse of a smile and heads to the sink to rinse his dishes. Chan follows him there and leans back against the counter, eyes trailing his every move, and Woojin knows that Chan suspects something amiss. Chan can just _tell._

“You look a little pale.”

“Do I?” Woojin mumbles, seizing the tea towel on the counter near Chan and drying his hands. He risks a glance at his boyfriend and Chan fixes him with a soft look of concern, placing his water bottle on the counter.

“Are you feeling okay, Bear?” Woojin almost melts at the affectionate nickname. Chan slides his hand under Woojin’s bangs and rests it on his forehead. Woojin closes his eyes and sighs, leaning into the soothing touch. “You’re not burning up…”

“I just have a headache,” Woojin lies, his eyes fluttering open. “Do we have any paracetamol?”

“I think so.” Chan frowns and moves away, reaching up to search through an overhead cabinet. He continues, “Jisung, Binnie and I are heading to the recording studio soon to work on tracks for the new album.” Chan shuts the cabinet and turns around, handing Woojin a packet of cheap paracetamol. “Do you wanna tag along? Some fresh air might make you feel better.”

Upon recalling the weather forecast, Woojin winces and looks down at his socked feet. “I, um… I think I’ll stay in today. Sorry, Channie.”

“Hey, that’s alright,” Chan says, squeezing Woojin’s shoulder, “I’m not forcing you to come.”

Woojin nods. It’s then that Jisung walks by them and yells, “No flirting in public!” and Chan drops his hand with a scowl. Woojin grabs a discarded mug from the sink and fills it with tap water, then pops two pills and grimaces at the foul taste in his mouth when he swallows them. He registers Chan packing away the medicine, and then there’s a warm hand ruffling his hair.

“Get well soon.”

The touch is fleeting and so is Chan’s presence; when Woojin turns around, he catches sight of the leader sauntering down the hallway, Jisung hot on his tail. Seconds after the pair enter Chan’s bedroom, Jeongin emerges from his own, rubbing his eyes. Woojin greets him briefly as he walks past. Jeongin mumbles an incoherent reply, still fighting the clutches of sleep, and Woojin can’t help but chuckle at the maknae as he slips into their room.

Woojin heads over to his bedside table and opens a small drawer. Inside are a pair of expensive, sound-proof headphones—one of his most useful purchases to date. Woojin had saved up for them before becoming a trainee and since then, they have come in handy in some of the stickiest situations. Woojin neatens his bed and places his headphones atop his pillow for later use, then hears a rush of water. He jolts—then, to his dismay—realises that one of the boys had just turned on the shower. Woojin gnaws on his lower lip. He had planned to have a shower himself before the weather takes a turn for the worse, but it seems like he’s going to have to wait his turn. 

Woojin sighs and seizes his phone, heading back out into the living room to pass the time. Minho is no longer in the room, but Seungmin is still sitting on the couch, flicking through channels on the television. Woojin lowers himself down on the empty couch.

Seungmin glances over. “Anything you want to watch, hyung?” 

Woojin smiles. “No, you can pick.”

Not much is said afterwards. Woojin spends most of the hour on his phone, scrolling through Twitter and trying to decipher fans’ comments on Instagram. Outside, the rain is relentless, splattering harder against the dorm windows with each passing minute. Woojin’s mind is clouded with thoughts of the unpleasant weather, his mouth dry and his leg bouncing a restless beat. Out of the corner of his eye, he catches Seungmin peek at him occasionally, but he otherwise remains silent. 

At long last, Woojin hears the bathroom door open and he all but springs from his seat, ignoring the bemused look that Seungmin sends his way. He heads to his room to grab his clothes and toiletries, then rushes into the humid bathroom before anyone else can claim it.

Woojin showers hastily, keeping an ear out for thunder as he scrubs himself clean. He’s so engrossed in this task that he almost drops the soap bar when someone raps on the door.

“Woojin?” Woojin makes out Chan’s voice over the spray of rain and water. “We’re heading to the recording studio in a minute!”

“Okay!” Woojin calls back, twisting the water off and stepping out of the stall. He reaches for a towel and taps on the door to grab Chan’s attention. “Be careful of the cold and stay safe. Don’t overwork yourself, either.”

Chan’s voice is muffled by the door between them. “Will do. See you later!”

Woojin listens to the sound of receding footsteps as he dries himself off. He dresses in a pair of sweats and an old jumper, then brushes his teeth, completing everything in a fear-induced haste as the rain wails in his ears. Once decent, Woojin rushes into his room, tossing his pyjamas in the clothes hamper and putting his phone on charge next to his bed. Scrolling through the updated forecast, Woojin blindly reaches for his headphones. 

His fingers skim the cold material of his pillow.

Dread washes over him like a bucket of ice-cold water. Woojin frantically digs through his bedsheets in search of his missing headphones, but his bed is completely devoid of them. Heart racing, he searches the drawer of his bedside table instead. His phone abruptly buzzes with a text and Woojin scrambles for it.

_‘hi, Woojin hyung!!! my headphones broke this morning and when I was looking for spares I found yours, I thought I’d borrow them! you were in the shower when we left so I didn’t have time to ask, but I wanted to let you know ^^_

_I promise to keep them extra safe and return them when I get back!_

_your favourite dongsaeng, Jisungie <3’_

Woojin sets his phone back down with trembling fingers. He stands motionless for a moment, his eyes burning with unshed tears as his mind races with possible solutions to his problem. Just as he twists around to head for Chan’s room, there’s a deafening roar of thunder.

Woojin’s vision turns black.

—

Two hours later finds Chan leaning over his computer at the recording studio, messing around with a freshly installed software. Changbin and Jisung are rolling around on chairs in the space behind him, presumably chatting about tracks for their upcoming album or similar topics. Chan can’t tune into their conversation, even if he tries—the pair of headphones sitting snug around his ears blocks out all background noise in the room. Chan didn’t notice until now, but he’s certain that Jisung doesn’t own sound equipment of such astounding quality, so he unplugs the headphones and swivels around to confront him.

“Hannie, where’d you get these?” Chan asks as he slides them off his head. He examines them with an air of curiosity. “This brand is super expensive.”

“I, uh…” Jisung flushes and clears his throat. “They’re not mine, they’re Woojin hyung’s. I’m just borrowing them.”

Chan quirks an eyebrow. “Is that so? Did you happen to ask?”

“Of course I did!” Jisung splutters. Then, after a beat, he pointedly avoids Chan’s gaze and scratches his ear. “Well, I sent him a text earlier…”

Chan sighs. “You shouldn’t take things without asking first, Jisung.”

“You’re only sticking up for him because he’s your boyfriend…” Jisung grumbles under his breath. Chan closes his eyes and massages his temples, trying to rid of the ache manifesting there.

“I’d say the same thing if it applied to any of you.”

Jisung realises that the topic is not up for debate, and he slouches in his seat, defeated. Chan sighs once again and runs his hand through his thick curls. He then glances over at Changbin, who’s hunched over his phone with a confused expression on his face. 

“Binnie, what’s up? You’re glaring at your phone like it just ate Gyu.”

“Lix is sending me weird texts,” Changbin responds, a tone of apprehensiveness in his voice. “Something about… Hold on, he’s calling me.”

“Put him on speaker, hyung,” Jisung suggests, he and Chan sharing a look. Changbin complies, and the quiet room is filled with the crackling buzz of several voices, accompanied by a hushed clap of thunder. Chan frowns, brows furrowing in confusion, concern already crawling up his spine.

“Yah, Felix, calm down. What’s going on?” Changbin says, holding the receiver up to his mouth. Chan can distinguish some sort of dispute on the other end of the line, but the sound is too distant to recognise the voices. “ _Lix._ Answer your phone. What’s wrong?”

 _“Hyung, sorry, I… Wait a second…”_ There’s a brief episode of muttering, and when Felix speaks up again, his voice wavers. _“Um, hyung. Did Woojin hyung go to the studio with you?”_

Chan’s breath hitches in his throat. Changbin glances up at him, then replies, “No, he’s not with us. Isn’t he at the dorm with you?”

_“He’s not here. In the dorm. We’ve checked everywhere, but there’s no sign of him. I last saw him in the bathroom, but we looked there and he’s not there either, and—”_

“He might’ve gone out somewhere,” Chan interjects quickly. _Woojin is fine, he’s at the dorms, he’s completely safe._ “Did you try calling him?”

 _“We tried, but his phone is on his bed.”_ Felix talks a mile a minute, the panic evident in his voice. He sniffs, and Changbin visibly bristles. _“We don’t know what to do. The storm has caused a blackout and we’ve opened all the curtains, but it’s still dark and Jeongin’s really freaking out. I don’t— Should we call the manager?”_

“No, no, wait right there. We’ll be there in fifteen,” Chan orders, already gathering his belongings. Jisung follows suit, packing away Woojin’s headphones and saving their progress on the computer. “Keep searching for him. Look outside the dorm if you haven’t already. We’ll find him, okay?”

 _“Okay,”_ Felix says miserably, and Changbin hangs up.

—

Chan, Changbin and Jisung arrive at the dorm ten minutes later, dripping wet. As soon as Chan steps through the door, Felix bounds up to him, panicked babble dribbling from his mouth. Chan paws his sneakers off and discards his coat quickly, letting it drop to the ground in a wet heap.

“Here’s not here, Chris hyung, we can’t find him,” Felix bubblers in a mix of English and Korean, tears streaming down his freckled cheeks. Chan grabs his shoulders and forces eye contact.

“You’ve searched everywhere? Bathroom, my room, outside?” 

Felix nods frantically, and Chan releases him. Seungmin appears at his side. “We just looked outside. I checked all the local stores, but no one had seen him,” he explains breathlessly. “What should we do, hyung?”

“We’ll do one more sweep of the dorm.” Chan’s voice shakes, his calm persona cracking by the minute. He swallows the lump in his throat. “Then we’ll call the manager. Look everywhere, even in places you think he won’t be.”

Felix and Seungmin nod. As everyone disperses, Chan catches sight of Hyunjin perched in the corner of the couch, murmuring softly to Jeongin, who’s curled up in his arms. Chan gnaws on his lower lip. Jeongin never grew out of his fear of the dark, and although Chan aches to comfort the maknae, locating Woojin is at the top of his list of priorities. _Besides, Hyunjin has it covered, anyway._

Chan delves into a search of the living room, wincing at a flash of lightning. He checks every speck of dust and leaves no cushion unturned, but finds all spots lack his Woojin. The sounds of his bandmates calling Woojin’s name are a numb echo in his ears, and he can feel his eyes prickle and his breath quicken as he ducks his head under the table and—

Over the ear-splitting rain and grumble of thunder, he hears it.

“I found him!”

Hope blossoming throughout his entire being, Chan starts down the dim hall towards Woojin’s crowded bedroom, where all the boys save Hyunjin and Jeongin are gathered. Felix is huddled on the floor, peering under Woojin’s bed.

“Hyung? Woojin hyung?” Felix says, voice muffled. He sits up and twists around to look at Chan, his face a painting of conflicted emotions. “I’m pretty sure it’s him, but I can’t really see much, so I don’t know for sure, but…”

Chan brushes past Seungmin and falls to his knees beside Felix. Bending his head, he squints into the darkness and sees a silhouette crumpled in the corner. Over the roar of the thunderstorm, Chan manages to pick up the sound of violent, broken wailing, and his eyes burn with tears.

“Woojin? It’s Chan,” Chan calls out, scooting a little under the bed. “Are you okay? Can you hear me?”

Chan stretches his arm out tries to grasp the back of Woojin’s jumper, but his attempt is in vain. He squeezes out from under the bed and sits up, the entire room swaying as tiny stars swarm his vision.

“Is he okay?” he hears Minho ask nervously. 

“Why is he under there in the first place?” Changbin adds, not unkindly. Chan scrubs at his eyes.

“I don’t know, but I can’t get to him like this. We need to move the bed.” Chan stands and drags the bedside table out of the way, then grabs the front of the bunk. Those in the room follow his lead, Changbin and Minho taking up the rear. Felix hops up and scoots in next to Chan. “Ready, and…”

On Chan’s count, the boys lift the bunk bed with a grunt and move it a few inches to the left, revealing Woojin curled up on the carpet. His head is tucked against his knees, hands clasped over his ears, gasping cries loud over the sound of the storm above. Chan scrambles over the bed and drops to the ground, scooping Woojin into his arms. 

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” Chan chokes out. Woojin is trembling in Chan’s embrace, his whimpers muffled by the soft material of his hoodie. Chan leans against the wall and holds him tighter, warm tears slipping down his cheeks. “You’re safe, Woojin. I’m right here. Nothing can hurt you.”

Felix crouches down next to the pair. “Woojin hyung, are you alright?” he asks softly, his hand on Woojin’s back. Chan sniffs.

“He’s… I think he’s frightened of the thunder.” Realisation sinks in like a sponge, and Chan adds, “His headphones are... Jisung, can you get his headphones?”

Jisung obliges and unzips his bag to dig out the item. The other boys send Woojin sympathetic glances before shuffling out of the room, and Felix springs to his feet to follow them. Chan cards his fingers through Woojin’s hair—a gesture he knows his boyfriend loves—and Woojin relaxes somewhat, his sobs fading into small, breathless sniffles. 

Jisung rounds the back of the bed and hands Chan the headphones. When Chan opens his mouth to thank him, Jisung beats him to it. 

“Woojin hyung, I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.”

“…It’s okay,” Woojin murmurs shakily, face buried into Chan’s jumper, “I forgive you.”

Jisung looks momentarily surprised. Then he lowers his head, wiping his face on the back of his sleeve. “I-I… Thank you, hyung. I’m really glad you’re okay.” 

Chan watches Jisung leave, shutting the door behind him. Then, Chan reaches into his back pocket for his phone and carefully slides the headphones onto Woojin’s ears. Even with the lack of music, the effect is instant—Woojin sighs heavily and turns limp in Chan’s arms, tension seeping out of his muscles. Chan scrolls through his music and selects one of the playlists Woojin had created for him. He then begins rubbing soothing circles onto Woojin’s back as he waits for the storm to cease.

Ten minutes pass. By then, the lightning and thunder has died out, leaving a soft drizzle of rain in their wake. Chan’s gaze flickers down to his boyfriend. Woojin’s expression is relaxed in sleep; hair mussed from Chan’s touch; wet eyelashes sticking together as a result of his tears. Slowly, Chan removes the headphones from Woojin’s ears and puts both them and his phone on the carpet. Then—as carefully as he can muster—he gathers Woojin in his arms and rises from the floor, then places him in his bed.

After covering Woojin with his sheets, Chan stretches out his stiff muscles, sighing with pleasure when his shoulders pop. Bending over, he pockets his phone and sweeps up the discarded headphones, stepping around the bunk to set them down on Woojin’s neglected bedside table. As he does so, the room is suddenly flooded with artificial light, making Chan scowl and shield his eyes. He hears a distant cheer from the living room and his lips quirk into a smile. _Looks like the power’s been restored._

Woojin stirs in his sleep, a groan hiccuping from his throat. “…Chan?” 

Chan lowers himself on the edge of the mattress, fingers returning to Woojin’s hair like magnets. “It’s all over, baby. You’re safe now.” Woojin’s eyes slip shut.

“I’m sorry.”

Chan blinks, drawing his hand back. “You don’t have to apologise, Bear, you did nothing wrong.”

“I caused you all so much trouble…”

“Well, you did give us a bit of a scare,” Chan admits, “but you didn’t burden us. We were just worried that something bad may have happened to you, that’s all.”

Woojin shifts so his back is to Chan, falling silent. Chan thinks he’s drifted off to sleep again until he whispers, “You’re not going to make fun of me?”

Chan frowns. “Make fun of… Woojin, why would I make fun of you?”

“I have such a stupid fear,” Woojin slurs, voice heavy with sleep and frustration. He bundles up the sheets into his fists. “What kind of teenager is scared of a bit of rain?”

“You’re not scared of rain, you’re scared of thunderstorms. And that’s pretty reasonable, if you ask me.” Chan pauses to let the words sink in. Then, he adds, “You don’t need to be ashamed. I don’t think any less of you, Woojin. None of us do.”

Woojin twists around to look up at Chan, eyes glistening with tears. “Really?”

“I promise, with all my heart.” Chan leans down and presses his lips against Woojin’s forehead. When he pulls back, Woojin looks a little less torn apart, so he smiles. “How are you feeling?”

“Drained,” Woojin answers. He looks exhausted—his eyes are red and swollen, with dark shadows underneath. His lips are chapped and his face pale. “I always feel like this after an… episode.”

“You’ve always had this phobia?” Chan asks gently.

“Ever since I can remember. I think it’s just something I was born with.” Woojin’s eyelids droop as he talks quietly. “It got so bad when I was a kid that I went to a doctor. She said it’d be something I’d grow out of as I got older, but as you can see—” he yawns, “—that was probably untrue.” 

Chan’s lips part in realisation. “Wait… You’ve been dealing with this by yourself? Even as a trainee?” Woojin nods. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“I was scared of what everyone would think of me.” Woojin’s mouth quirks at the corners as he says, “I didn’t want to ruin my ‘tough hyung’ reputation.”

Chan huffs a laugh, shaking his head slightly. “Kim Woojin, you’re unbelievable.”

A soft knock breaks the moment, startling Woojin a little. Chan turns around just in time to see Seungmin poke his head through the door.

“Um, hyungs? Dinner is here. We ordered KFC.”

“Oh.” Chan blinks; he’d been so caught up in comforting Woojin that he’d forgotten all about dinner. He smiles gratefully. “Thanks, Seungmin. Give us a minute.”

“Sure.” Seungmin offers Woojin a smile. “I’m glad you’re safe and sound, Woojin hyung.” 

And then he’s gone, closing the door behind him with a soft click. Chan gazes down at Woojin, who’s drifting back into the realm of sleep, sheets wrapped around his curled frame. He lightly drags his thumb across the curve of Woojin’s cheekbone, nothing more than a fluttering stroke.

“I’ll put the leftovers in the fridge for you. Anything in particular you want? Chicken tenders?”

Woojin’s voice is hardly a mumble. “Yes please.”

“Consider it done.” Chan drops another kiss onto Woojin’s forehead, then crosses the room. He flicks the light off, shrouding the bedroom in darkness. “Sleep well, Bear.”

Chan is no more than a step out into the hall when he hears Woojin call his name softly. He ducks his head back into the room. 

“Yeah?”

With a beam of light filtering in through the crack in the door, Woojin’s sleepy features are shrouded in a warm glow. Chan, like many times before, is struck with the realisation of how lucky he is to have stumbled across somebody like Woojin.

“Thank you,” Woojin whispers. “For everything.” 

“For you?” Chan replies, “Anything.”

—

Kim Woojin awakes to the mellow thrum of rain against his bedroom window.

**Author's Note:**

>  ~~Felix doesn't have any lines in songs so I gave him lines in my fic~~ oops haha my hand slipped
> 
> thank you so much for reading! toss me some thoughts in the comments, I love hearing your opinions! 
> 
> until next time! ♡


End file.
